Posts Tagged ‘art’

While I was in Prague this summer, I read Milan Kundera’s magnificent and heartbreaking novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. The story takes place in Prague in 1968, during the Prague Spring and the subsequent Soviet occupation. Tomáš, Tereza, Sabina, and Franz are the four characters through whose lives, loves, and losses the insignificance of life and the fate of the individual are examined.

What better place to lose oneself in one of Kundera’s passionate novels than in Prague, where the author attended university and the setting for most of his books. From the top of Petřín hill to the old castle grounds at Vyšehrad perched above the Vltava River, the city of Prague encapsulates a beauty, mystery, and romance reflected in the poignant and sometimes surreal writing of Milan Kundera.

{View of Prague Castle from Petřín hill}

{Petřín hill}

{View from Petřín hill with Prague castle in the distance}

{View of the Vltava, Prague castle, and Petřín hill from Vyšehrad castle}

{View from Vyšehrad castle}

Recently, while browsing through Free People’s blog, BLDG 25, I stumbled upon some posts from their Book Club series featuring Unbearable Lightness of Being pairing favorite quotes with images that evoke the sentiment of the novel. Here are some of my favorites…

“chance and chance alone has a message for us. everything that occurs out of necessity, everything expected, repeated day in and day out, is mute. only chance can speak to us. we read its message much as gypsies read the images made by coffee grounds at the bottom of a cup.”

“while people are fairly young and the musical composition of their lives is still in its opening bars, they can go about writing it together and exchange motifs…but if they meet when they are older, their musical compositions are more or less complete, and every motif, every object, every word means something different to each of them.”

“When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object.”

“…and finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present.  they are the dreamers.”

See more of Free People’s favorite quotes from the book here, here, and here.

[Images by Kelly Overvold, from amazon.com, and from blog.freepeople.com.]

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I’m in love with this great mug I bought from Anthropologie yesterday!

—released as part of the Homegrown Monogramed Mug product selection by Anthropologie in collaboration with Australian artist Samantha Robinson. Extremely delicate porcelain construction combines with a generous bulb form to compliment that extra large cup of tea or coffee. The captivating decoration suggests a baroque reinterpretation of floral and faunal designs with a hint of orientalist fantasy—executed with a contemporary edge and a bold color palette. Brilliant! But the crowning detail, in my opinion, is the throwing rings on the inside walls—my absolute favorite kind of artist’s signature. Check out more of Samantha  Robinson’s work here or stop by her shop the next time you’re in Sydney!

[Images from anthropologie.com and samantharobinson.com.au.]

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Downtown Cape Town

South Africa

March 2011

“…the apricot warmth of a summer Sunday morning when almost everyone slept late and moldy cocks kept in postage-stamp, asphalt yards crowed their confined calls to wake no one in particular. Then the sun rose over-ripe although it was barely six o’clock and the whole District was snoring and blowing away the fumes of Saturday evening. The gaiety and sheer abandonment of the previous night had given way to the exhausted sleep of Sunday morning.” — Richard Rive, excerpt from “Buckingham Palace,” District Six in Whereabouts Press’s A Traveler’s Literary Companion

[See the complete album here!]

[Images by Kelly Overvold and Scott Zaban.]

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Florence, Italy

March 2010

[See the complete album here!]

“I slow diver won’t touch
the rock bottom of youth

now I fish out only
salty broken torsos

Apollo appears to me in dreams
with the face of a fallen Persian

poetry’s auguries are false
it all happened differently

the epic’s fire was different
the city’s fire was different

heroes did not return from the expedition
there were no heroes
the unworthy survived

I am seeking a statue
drowned in my youth

only an empty pedestal remains—
the trace of a hand seeking a form”

—from “To Apollo,” by Zbigniew Herbert

[See the complete album here!]

[Images by Kelly Overvold and Scott Zaban.]

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